


Imprisoned

by Anneliza



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Royalty, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 22:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anneliza/pseuds/Anneliza
Summary: Prince Francis has always longed for freedom he wasn't allowed to have but after a little exploring he might find what he wants. Though is it really the best decision he's ever made?





	1. Chapter 1

From the moment he was born he had been treated differently. People moved out of his way without his asking, people waited on him, people did whatever he wanted. If he had been born a peasant he would have been one of those people but he hadn’t been born a peasant. Instead, he had been born a prince. Many of his subjects would have loved to be in his place but he hated being a prince. He was constantly being told what to do or what to wear and never seemed to be able to do what he wanted. Not only that but he had a hard time even going anywhere on his own but today he was going to sneak away and do something he desperately wanted to do. 

* * * 

The castle dungeons had always been dark and somewhat damp, not to mention dangerous, and because of these reasons, as well as many others, the Prince had not been allowed in them. He always seemed to have a guard within sight of him so any strange activity was conveyed to his grandfather, the King, within a matter of minutes. The Prince had so many rules placed on him that it was hard for him to remember them all but the knights remembered each and every one and would report him immediately if he broke even one. Due to the strict watching and mass of rules, the Prince often disguised himself as an errand boy or a kitchen helper to escape from the scrutiny for a while. Today he had decided to borrow a maid outfit, dirtying his face and hands as well as pulling a bonnet over his long blond hair to look more inconspicuous, and had made his way to the dungeons as soon as he could. 

He had only been to the dungeons once or twice before, encountering some rather unpleasant characters while he was there, so he hadn’t fully explored them yet. For all he knew there was a secret exit from the castle in it that he could use to investigate the small town and surrounding forest, avoiding his responsibilities for as long as he could. The main reason he had chosen this particular day to travel to the dungeons was because he was meant to have an audience with his grandfather, something he loathed. All that happened during the audiences was that his grandfather would rant and rave about how he wasn’t the perfect grandson or prince and remind him that the only reason he had not sentenced him to exile yet was that the boy was the only heir from his lineage. There could be no other heir either since the King’s only daughter and his son-in-law, the Prince’s parents, had been killed when the Prince was very young. 

The other reason he had decided to go to the dungeons on this particular day was that he had heard the knights discussing a ‘secret’ that was locked inside. He had thought that it must be some sort of treasure since he had also heard that the rest of the dungeons had been cleared because of it. 

As he approached the heavy doors that led down to the underground dungeon, he saw two knights standing nearby. Pulling a rock out of his pocket, he threw it down the hallway causing the knights to walk away and investigate the sound. He hurried to take the free moment and, using the key he had stolen from his grandfather that morning, slipped into the dungeons. He made sure to close the heavy door behind him before padding silently down the stairs. 

It was quiet, far quieter than he was used to, and very cold which made him shiver a little. He wished he was cloaked in his warm tunics rather than this thin uniform but he would rather be cold than locked in a small room with his grandfather. While he walked down the dark corridor he looked into the many cells, all of which were empty. ‘Where did the prisoners go?’ he wondered. ‘And why? To keep them away from the treasure?’ 

Around a corner and at the end of the corridor, in the very last cell, was a shape. Was that the treasure? 

He moved closer to peer inside but he couldn’t see anything. Looking around he walked over to the closest torch on the wall. Standing on the very tips of his toes, he managed to get it down but it was heavy and he almost dropped it on his foot. 

He hated being small and weak. 

After a while he managed to roll the torch across the floor and over to the cell. This time when he leaned in to look the lump on the floor jumped up and darted over to him, growling. 

With a shriek he jumped back, covering his face. 

“Oh,” came a voice, sounding disappointed. “You are just a lass.” 

He peeked between his fingers, still frightened, and saw a dirty boy with unruly hair and large eyebrows frowning at him. 

“W-Who are you?” he whispered. 

“It does not matter,” the boy spat back. “Why are you down here?” 

“I-I was curious.” 

His answer seemed to anger the boy in the cell whose eyes narrowed and he shook the bars of the cell. 

“Curious?! You were curious?! A brat like you wanted to see the thing your stupid king is so afraid of?! Who gave you the right to be curious?!” When the boy started shaking the bars, the Prince in disguise hid his face again and whimpered, his eyes filling with tears. He didn’t know what he had said to make the boy so angry but he was scaring him. He didn’t even care that he was breaking one of his grandfather’s rules: ‘Never cry. Not in front of friend or foe. No matter what, boys never cry’. “What is wrong with you?” he demanded. 

The Prince lowered his hands, revealing the tears sliding down his cheeks. 

“I-I am sorry,” he forced out between his sobs. “I-I am sorry.” 

The boy in the cell felt bad about what he’d done. He hadn’t meant to make the little girl cry but he was sick of being caged. The only visitor he saw besides a few regular knights was the King, occasionally accompanied by his advisor or the head of the knights. 

“Oi. Stop that. I did not mean to make you cry. I am sorry too.” 

After a few minutes the Prince forced himself to stop crying, drying his face on the corner of his apron. 

“W-Why are you in here?” 

The boy let out a hiss. 

“Your King caught me and threw me in here,” he sneered. “He thinks that by keeping me in here he can control my family.” 

“The King did this to you…?” 

“Yes!” 

The Prince flinched again but he opened his mouth to ask another question when they heard the door to the dungeon creak open. 

“Oh no!” he cried. “I have to go!” 

He ran away without another word, keeping his steps light so that the knights didn’t hear him. Scampering out the door he continued running to his rooms. He needed to change and meet his grandfather before the man got too angry with his disappearance. 

Dodging knights and servants, he dashed into his room and changed from the dirty outfit to his usual, regal dress. He made sure to wash his face and hands and put his golden circlet on his head before heading to his grandfather’s study. 

With a deep breath he knocked on the thick wooden door.


	2. Chapter 2

“Come in, Francis!” his grandfather snapped. He opened the door and stepped inside, turning to close the door behind him. “Where have you been?!” he demanded when the boy turned around. “You are nearly an hour late!” 

“My timepiece is off…” 

“Do not lie to me, child! I sent Mary to collect you when you were taking too long and you were not in your chambers! Where were you?!” 

“I-I was in the gardens…it was nice out…” 

His grandfather leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Francis, you know you are to meet with me at two once your lessons are complete. Did you even attend your lessons today?” 

The boy looked down at his feet and shifted nervously. 

“N-No…” 

The old man stood up and started to pace back in forth, a sign that he was frustrated but trying to compose himself. 

“You need to attend your lessons, Francis. Your Latin is atrocious, your opponents can easily dominate you in fencing, and if I were to ask for your help with military planning we would lose every knight we sent out.” 

Francis shrunk in on himself. He was talented with some of his subjects but his grandfather never mentioned those. Why did the man only see his faults? 

"I-I am good with my flute…” 

“A meaningless talent.” 

His grandfather continued to pace, staying completely silent, so Francis decided to ask him about what was on his mind. 

“Why is there a boy in the dungeons?” 

The man froze. 

“You went in the dungeons?” 

“Y-Yes,” Francis whimpered, he was terrified of how still his grandfather had gone. 

_“Do not go in the dungeons!”_ the man screeched, roughly slapping him. “You are not allowed down there!” Francis screamed when his grandfather hit him and ran for the door. He tugged on it, trying to get away, but he was caught and pulled back. The man continued to yell and beat him. “Why do you never listen to the rules I give you?! Why do you never do what you are told?!” 

A few knights heard him as well as the King’s advisor and they all hurried to open the door. They tumbled into the room and were shocked to see the King, face red with anger, and seething. In his lap was the young Prince, trying to cover himself while his grandfather hit him. 

“Sire!” the advisor yelled over the King. “Stop that this instant!” He rushed over to them and pulled Francis away from his crazed grandfather. 

The man instantly jumped back up and Francis squealed in fear, shaking in the advisor’s arms. Seeing his anguish, the knights that had entered the room formed a protective line in front of the two of them. 

“Give him back! You have no right-!” 

“No, Sire!” his advisor cut across him. “You have no right! Whatever the young Prince did it cannot have been bad enough for that reaction!” He stepped back. “I am taking Francis out of here. You need to calm down.” 

With that he turned around and left the room, heading for Francis’ rooms. When he passed the Prince’s nursemaid he beckoned for the woman to follow him. Francis clung to him and continued shaking and crying as they walked and even as the advisor attempted to put him on his bed. 

“Let go,” he commanded gently. “I need to have a word with your grandfather about what just happened. Mary is here to take care of you.” 

At his words Mary stepped forward and gently took the boy into her arms. 

“Everything is going to be alright, little prince,” she cooed to him, petting his hair and rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down. “Everything is going to be fine.” 

She started to sing a quiet lullaby to him, laying back on his bed, still holding him close. Mary was a sweet woman of about thirty whose husband had died many years earlier at war and was never able to produce a child of her own. When Francis was born she had been brought into the castle to help the Prince and Princess take care of the new heir while they tended to their duties. The new parents spent as much time with their baby as possible and loved him very much, doting on him constantly. 

His grandfather had been like that too. At first. 

A year or so after Francis had been born, his parents had died and Mary had become his full-time nursemaid, taking care of him like her own child. Francis didn’t remember his true mother since he had never really met her and considered Mary to be a surrogate mother. When his parents died is when his grandfather turned cold. He was so hurt and angry about their death that he took it out on Francis but never before had he done more than scold and yell until today. If Francis mentioned his mother he would set his grandfather off so all the information he had about her or his father had been relayed to him in secret through Mary or other servants around the castle. 

After a while Francis fell asleep, his cheeks stained with the tears he’d shed and his eyes a dark red. Mary carefully unwound Francis’ arms and legs from around her body and tucked him into the plush bed. Once she was sure he wasn’t going to wake up she slipped into the hallway as the advisor appeared at the other end of it. 

Noticing her, the advisor turned and hurried over to her side. 

“Is he alright?” he asked. 

“He is asleep,” she replied in a whisper. “But he is covered in bruises and gashes. What happened to him?” 

The advisor sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

“The King snapped. He was beating him.” 

Mary’s eyes widened. 

“He was _beating_ him? What on earth had the prince done? The King does not lose his temper like that over nothing! The child is seven years old and has never once had a finger laid upon him before today!” 

“The child asked him about what is in the dungeons.” He took a deep breath. “I have spoken to him. His audiences with the boy have been put on hold until further notice. He has caused great harm to this kingdom’s heir and such behavior is not going to be tolerated.” 

The woman nodded. 

“Good. I will stay with the prince. Have all his meals delivered to his chambers and a guard stationed outside his door. I know that this is our king’s castle but I want him to feel safe. And can you have water sent up for a bath? I wish to clean his wounds when he wakes up.” 

“I will.” 

He bowed to her and scurried off to do as she had asked. 

Mary slipped back in the room just in time to hear quiet whimpers coming from the child. She hurried over to him and held him again. The poor boy clung to her, obviously having a night terror that was most likely caused by recent events.


	3. Chapter 3

A couple days had passed and Francis had not seen his grandfather since the incident. Mary was always close by in case he had an episode of terror and there were knights outside his door day and night. Every day he took his meals in his sitting room instead of in the dining hall with the King. The best thing for him was that he was now allowed free roaming around the castle as long as he told Mary when he was leaving. While he was wandering his grandfather was kept busy in his study so the two of them would be unable to cross paths. 

Today he decided that he wanted to go back to the dungeons and talk to the strange boy again. His grandfather’s actions had encouraged him to learn about the boy rather than deter him like the man had wanted. He pulled on a thick, light green tunic which would have been very warm for the nice spring day outside. However, it would keep him from shivering when he went to the dungeon. 

“Miss Mary,” he beckoned as he finished brushing his long blond hair. The woman stepped into the room and waited patiently for him to speak. “Would it be alright if I go out for a few hours?” 

Mary smiled at his polite question and nodded. 

“Of course, little prince. I will alert Ferdinand to your wandering.” She pat his head gently. “Go on.” 

Francis smiled back and left the room, heading to the dungeon. He waited behind a pillar until the knights left their shift a few minutes early. Taking advantage of his luck, he rushed over to the door and slipped inside before a new set of knights came by to take over. 

The dungeons were just as dark and cold as the last time he had been down there but he confidently walked towards the darkest cell. Again he pulled down a torch and set it on the ground by the bars of cell. 

“Hello?” he called, looking around in the darkness for the boy. “Are you in here?” 

Something in the darkest corner shifted before moving into the light. The boy peered at him curiously. 

“Who are you? I have not seen you before.” 

“Actually you have. I was dressed like a maid the last time I was here so no one would know.” 

The boy stared at him for a few moments before nodding. 

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I recognize you now. Why were you disguised as a maid?” 

“So my grandfather would not know that I came here.” The strange boy continued to stare at him, making the younger child uncomfortable. “W-What?” 

“You were not hurt the last time I saw you. What happened?” 

Francis looked away and absentmindedly played with a lock of his hair. 

“M-My grandfather…he was upset when he found out that I knew about you…” 

“And he hurt you because of it?” 

The Prince nodded. 

“He seems to not like you.” 

The other boy snorted. 

“No one around here likes me. Do you think they would have locked me in here if they did?” Francis shook his head. “And if your grandfather was so upset about you seeing me then why are you here?” 

“He does not know. Mary and Ferdinand keep him away from me and let me go where I want inside the castle now.” 

“Who?” 

“My nursemaid and my grandfather’s advisor.” 

Once again those bright green eyes were boring into him, clearly thinking hard about something. Suddenly his eyes widened. 

“Your grandfather is the king,” he whispered, shocked. 

“I thought you knew that…” 

“No. I did not until now. I thought you were some noble’s child who was running loose.” He smirked. “So you are a pampered little Prince who cannot take a hit?” he taunted. 

“No one had ever hit me before…” Francis admitted quietly. 

“Oh.” Again the boy felt like a jerk. He should have known. The little boy was probably no more than nine after all but it was hard to tell; his clothes made him look older but his innocent eyes made him look like a toddler. “How old are you?” he asked suddenly. 

“S-Seven.” 

“And your name?” 

“Francis.” 

“Hmm…” 

The boy rubbed his chin as he thought. This Prince seemed so lonely, like he would accept any affection or attention even if it was for the wrong reasons. He could use that to get out of this horrid place but as the boy watched him with those bright blue eyes he knew he could never. The child just wanted someone to care for him and withered when he was hurt by someone he trusted. If he hurt the child he would feel terrible. 

“Why are you down here?” His question was asked in such a simple tone. He was clearly very interested in the answer and seemed to have no prior information about him other than what he had learned last time. 

“Your grandfather thinks my family is hurting the people of your kingdom. He thinks that if he has me then he can force my brothers to act how he wants if they want me back in one piece someday.” 

Francis gasped. 

“That is horrible! I cannot believe he would do that to you!” 

“I appreciate that, lad, but you better believe it. I will be stuck in here if and until your grandfather decides to let me leave.” 

The Prince angrily stamped his foot. 

“When I am king the first thing I am going to do is release you!” he declared. “No one should be used so someone else can get their way!” 

The boy blinked in surprise. 

“Really? You would do that for me? You do not even know anything about me. Or my family. Or what your grandfather thinks my family has done.” 

Francis nodded thoughtfully and sat down on the ground in front of the cell. 

“You are right. So tell me.” 

The older boy sized up the situation. He could easily ignore the child and tell him to go away. Or he could tell him what he wanted to know. He stayed silent as he thought, 

Francis patiently waiting for him to decide. What would he lose if he told the child? It is not as if he would run to his grandfather and call for his execution. 

“Fine.” He sat down as close to the edge of the cell as he could. “To start off my name is Arthur. I have four brothers and we all live in the woods outside this kingdom. We rarely enter your marketplace unless we desperately need something because the woods provide everything else we need. The few times we do enter we are not treated kindly. We are not welcome. We stay in the woods where we are away from those that would do us harm. It keeps your people at ease to know that we are locked away in the woods and they simply avoid the woods. If they need something from the woods they go in as shallowly as possible and when they return the make up stories about how they barely escaped with their lives. We know they do for eventually their tales reach even us who are so isolated in the forest. Your people despise me and my family so we stay out of their way. This arrangement worked for decades until…” He stopped, biting his tongue. “Your grandfather has wanted our family dead for a long time now.” 

Francis listened to the story, eager to know why a boy only a few years older than him was in this position but there was still one thing he did not understand. 

“But…why does everyone not like you?” he asked, confusion shining in his big eyes. 

“Because…” Arthur took a breath and looked straight into the Prince’s eyes, the green seeming to glow slightly in the dark. “We are werewolves.”


End file.
